


Casting the Net Wide

by nyagosstar



Series: Better With Two [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 14:38:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5209640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyagosstar/pseuds/nyagosstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A game of Wicked Grace opens up a world of possibilities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Casting the Net Wide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Heronfem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heronfem/gifts).



> So, a little while ago, Heronfem said she wished someone would write Krem/Felix/Cullen. The idea hit my like a physical thing and would not let go. It was supposed to be a short pwp, and then everyone had feelings and stuff.
> 
> This is set at some future point in my Better with Two series, which should, I guess be called Better with Three, now.
> 
> Also, the rating is for the second part of this chapter.

Krem is reading in his room, relaxed and ready for a quiet night, when Felix knocks on his door and pokes his head in. Krem smiles. “Hello, handsome.”

He’s flushed, but with good humor, and the smile he gives Krem makes his insides twist up something fierce. “Can I interest you in a game of chance?”

Book set aside, Krem crosses the room and slides his arms around Felix’s waist. He tucks his face in the crook of Felix’s neck and breathes deep. “I’m up for a game.”

“Dorian invited me to Wicked Grace.”

Not exactly the kind of game Krem has in mind. He kisses the exposed skin at his neck and steps back. “I’ll pass. Have fun, though.”

Felix falters and his smile droops. “I thought you liked it.”

He shrugs. “I do, but Wicked Grace is kind of a niche thing with the Inquisitor and her people.” He likes them all well enough, some more than others, of course, but Krem doesn’t need a visual reminder of the levels of status in the Inquisition. He knows his place and he’s happy with it, but that doesn’t mean he likes having it shoved in his face. 

Felix hooks his fingers through the waist of Krem’s trousers and pulls him forward. “Dorian invited me. And I’m inviting you.”

It’s easy, sometimes, to forget that Felix comes from a class of people who take for granted that they can do almost whatever they want without consequence. Both Felix and Dorian sweep through spaces in Skyhold at because they expect that, even should they not be welcome, their trespass will be unremarked. Felix might not feel strange at table where he hadn’t been invited, but Krem would feel the strangeness. “I’d better not.”

Felix kisses him, quick on the lips. “You don’t have to if you really don’t want. But I would like it if you came. Two friendly faces at a table are always better than one.”

And there it is. Felix, who is really still an outsider, despite his help and his friendship with Dorian, may walk through Skyhold as though he belongs, but he feels the tentative nature of his acceptance. 

Krem doesn’t even roll his eyes. “Okay. Just let me,” he backs up to pinch out the candle between his fingers and rubs the soot on his trousers.

“Thank you.” Felix takes his hand and rubs at the trace off ash on his fingertips. If he’s honest, Krem puts out his candles with his fingers when Felix is around because Felix seems so enthralled with the process. More likely to snuff them out or magic, he always touches the traces on Krem’s hands. “We don’t have to stay long, just a hand or two.”

It’s not the trial Krem expects. No one says anything about his presence, just makes space for the two of them and deals them in. He’s squeezed in between Felix and Cullen, Felix more interested in talking to Cassandra than watching his cards. Cullen’s a decent conversationalist, with a dry sense of humor that gets lost amongst so many bright personalities. 

They stay through more than two rounds. Between the drink and the conversation, they outlast most of the table, Sera and the Chief tap out after more rounds than they should be able to put away without dying. Dorian loses all of his coins and Blackwall takes the Inquisitor away before she can lose all of hers as well. By the early hours of the morning, only Cullen and Varric remain, swapping stories about Kirkwall, the less shitty parts of it, apparently. 

Eventually, the stories run down and Varric makes his good nights and steals away. Felix is leaning into his side, warm and languid. Cullen is leaning back in his seat, his face flushed from the wine and fire. It’s a good look on him. Krem looks away, down at Felix and winces when he sees Felix watching him. A thoughtful look crosses his face and Krem clears his throat. They should have left hours ago.

“I’m sure you have an early morning, Commander.” He stands and pulls Felix up with him. “We won’t keep you.”

Cullen stands as well and it’s hard to tell, but it looks like he’s pinked up more. “Yes, right. Thank you for the game. You should join us again.” His hands are awkward at his sides and Krem is half expecting him to salute or click his heels together. Instead, he squeezes first Krem’s shoulder then Felix’s and disappears out of the room. 

Felix is still looking at him once they’re alone and Krem can’t stand it. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“You’re more than welcome to look at other people, darling. The two of you certainly make a pretty picture.” There’s heat in Felix’s regard. 

“I don’t want to talk about this.” Mostly because he kind of agrees and then he feels guilty and then he thinks that Cullen and Felix would be beautiful together and it makes him feel worse.

*

Krem is off his game the next day and the day after. He can’t concentrate for shit, he’s short with the Chargers and after the Chief knocks him on his ass for the third time in a single session he’s had enough. “I’m no good today, Chief. Pick it back up tomorrow?”

“Not if you’re going to fuck around again.” He waves the Chargers off the practice field and steers Krem into the Herald’s Rest. It’s dark inside and cool and there are mugs of mostly not shitty ale. “What’s going on? You having trouble with the ‘vint?”

“I’m a ‘vint.”

“Yeah, but some of you are ‘vintier than others.”

Krem drains half his tankard in one go and closes his eyes. It turns out to be the wrong thing, because all he can picture is Cullen’s half smile. It’s not good. What he has with Felix is good, better than good. He loves Felix, in a scary, exhilarating way that keeps him up at night. Krem doesn’t know what’s wrong with him that he’s thinking of thinking of throwing that away. Too much time in one place maybe, it’s the longest the Chargers have ever been stationary. 

“This about Cullen?”

Krem almost spits a mouthful of ale on the floor. “What?”

“Dorian and Cullen play chess. They gossip and Dorian shares the good stuff with me. He talks about you, sometimes.” The Chief’s tone is easy, but then, it’s almost always easy when they’re not in the middle of a battle.

He’s tempted to pinch the bridge of his nose, but it’s a dead giveaway to his unease. The Chief can read him easy enough without help. “I don’t need to know this.”

“It used to just be casual like, Krem’s good with the Chargers or Felix’s research has been helpful. Now he asks questions, wants to know about you. It’s driving Dorian to distraction. Cullen would probably be up for it if you asked him.”

“I’m with Felix,” he hisses and hopes the Chief will drop it, even as he knows that Bull is relentless when he thinks one of his people need to work through something. 

“Yeah. And I’m saying he’d be up for a round with both of you.”

The image hits Krem in the chest like a maul. Cullen, golden and rakish, Felix, burnished and brazen, together. “Maker.” He swallows down the rest of his ale. “I love Felix.”

“Yeah, and? Love isn’t a finite source. Just because the two of you love each other doesn’t mean there isn’t room for Cullen. Whether it’s just the once or more of a long term solution.” 

“And that’s how it works with you and Dorian?” 

The Chief chuckles. “Nah. Dorian needs to know he’s the center of the known world. He’s spent a lifetime as someone’s piece on the side or momentary distraction. He’d take it the wrong way if I tried to bring in a third, and I’m okay without it.”

It’s more than he really needs to know about either of them, but it helps, too. That’s the Chief’s brand of help, though: oversharing with a side of wisdom. 

“You should talk to Felix. And then Cullen. Set up some rules and boundaries, make sure everyone’s expecting the same thing and then have some fun.”

*

“I had an interesting conversation with the Chief today.”

“Oh?” Felix is working on calculations for some project of the Inquisitor, but he sets it aside as Krem comes to perch on the edge of his desk. He’s working in his room instead of the library and it’s a relief to have the privacy.

Krem shifts and rubs at his arms and considers getting up to pace until Felix takes his hands and kisses his knuckles. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

The words stick in his throat and he has no idea how to just say it. He loves Felix, with his soft eyes and strong hands, and the thought of hurting him is physically painful.

“Are you worried about Cullen?”

All his breath leaves him in a great whoosh. “How is it that everyone knows what’s going on but me?”

Felix smiles and kisses his hand again. “You’re not terribly subtle, darling. There’s no need to feel guilty for looking. He’s a handsome man.”

“What if I wanted to do more than look? If _we_ did more than look?” Because he doesn’t want to do anything with Felix at his side.

“Well now,” Felix rumbles a low growl of approval. “That’s what’s got you so bothered. Have you thought about it? Imagined how it would feel pressed between the two of us?”

“I,” he clears his throat. “Maker, you’re taking this well.”

Felix eases up on the grip of Krem’s hand and leans back. His eyes are still dark with arousal, but his voice is level and he’s obviously trying to keep the conversation balanced. “My parents had a third. Until I was about thirteen, I think. Marisol. She had to return home because of family obligations, but they loved each other well. I wonder, sometimes, if things would have been different after the attack if she’d still been with us.”

There are days when Krem feels like he doesn’t have enough time or energy for himself. He doesn’t want anyone to feel neglected. “Would it just be sex, or,” he trails off because he doesn’t know the words for what he wants.

There’s a moment of silence and Krem worries he’s said something wrong. “I wouldn’t like it to be just sex. If that’s what you want,” he shrugs, “feel free to pursue Cullen, take him to your bed and have a good time. Casual doesn’t work well for me.”

“How would it work?”

“Slow at first. Dinner, perhaps, with the three of us. I’ll set it up and we’ll talk about what we want.”

“What do you want?”

Felix stands and kisses him. “I want you to be happy. I think three is more stable than two, but I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I love you. That’s what matters most.”

It eases him, as Felix always does.

*

Knowing that Felix is taking care of things helps Krem get on with business. The thought of Cullen is still present, but it’s moved to the back of his thoughts instead of right out front. He runs the Chargers through drills, helps Blackwall with the horses and generally keeps busy. He hasn’t forgotten about it, exactly, but it’s still a surprise when Felix is waiting in his room one evening, dressed in crisply tailored robes that accentuate his waist and shoulders. Laid out on his bed is a clean set of clothes of his own.

“Get dressed. We have a date.”

“Tonight?”

Felix hums and helps him out of his tunic and trousers. There’s a basin of warm water to wipe away the day and Krem stands still as Felix runs the cloth over him in economical, practiced motions. “The Commander is a busy man, but he’s made time for us this evening.”

He lets Felix tend him and dress him, inexplicably nervous. “I wasn’t this nervous when I bought you a drink that first night.” He can’t remember the last time he was so nervous.

“Asking a stranger if he wants a drink is different from going to dinner with your lover to iron out details for a potential third. It’s all right to be nervous.”

A thought occurs to him. “Are _you_ nervous?”

“I want things to go well. That’s all.”

There aren’t many places in Skyhold that are private. Between repairs and the number of people, most rooms that can be occupied are. Somehow Felix managed to find a room in decent repair, not too drafty or dusty. With candles lit along the walls, it was cheerful and just a touch intimate. 

Cullen is waiting for them, out of his armor. He’s cleanly shaven, for once and his hair is softly curled, instead of the slicked back regiment he normally presents. Krem wants to take his hand. Instead, he smiles, the one he used on Felix that first night. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you.”

Before it can get awkward, Felix ushers them to the table and between serving food and eating, some of the strain eases. Not all of it, of course, they’re all too aware of why they’re together for it to be easy, but it’s nice. Cullen has charming stories about his recruits and Felix could talk the awkwardness out of a dead cat. 

Krem is happy mostly to listen, but there are a few choice stories about the Chargers that are always good for a laugh. He picks the ones that make him look best and enjoys the way the firelight catches in Felix’s eyes and Cullen’s hair. He declines a second glass of wine, content to lean back and enjoy their company.

Most of the night slips away before he knows it. They’ve been talking for hours and it feels good. So when Felix reaches out to take Krem’s hand and leans in toward Cullen, the nervousness that plagued Krem at the beginning of the evening is mostly gone. 

“This has been a nice evening.” Thank the Maker Felix is there to smooth the way, finding the words when Krem doesn’t know how to start.

“It has.” Cullen’s smile is soft and a little shy and Krem wants to kiss him. He squeezes Felix’s hand instead. 

“Do you think you’d like to meet with us again?”

His face is flushed and his eyes are bright. “I would.” He clears his throat. “My nights can be unpredictable but I often have some free time in the afternoons?”

Krem’s often busy with the Chargers in the afternoons, but since the Chief suggested this in the first place, he shouldn’t mind if Krem sneaks off. “I could meet you for chess? I know you play, we could meet on Tuesday.”

“And I prefer company while I work in the library. Come by this week.”

Cullen nods and stands, while Krem stands with him, dragged up by the sheer force of Cullen’s presence. “I look forward to it.”

Felix moves first, closing the distance between him and Cullen and presses their mouths together. It’s almost chaste, as a first kiss, expect for the way Felix twists his fingers through Cullen’s hair and the low moan that works out of Cullen when they part. Krem waits half a beat before he pulls Cullen to him, moaning himself as he tastes Felix on Cullen’s lips, and then works past them to find Cullen’s own unique flavor.

Cullen pulls back and Krem lets him go, even as he wants to twist his hands in Cullen’s clothes and drag him close. “Good evening.” He bows, the flush in his face steady and leaves them together.

“I think that went well.” Felix looks pleased, self-satisfied, and beautiful. “What do you think?”

Krem can’t think of an answer that isn’t ridiculous, so he settles on a kiss.

*

“Are you going to try and flip every single straight man in the whole of Skyhold, or just the pretty ones?” Dorian drops into a seat across from him in the Herald’s Rest, a frown on his face and something close to jealousy in his eyes.

Krem takes a slow drink before answering. He barely wants to talk about it with Felix. Dorian is not on his list of confidants. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please. Bull shares my bed and I play chess with Cullen twice a week. This place is far too small for you to keep this kind of a thing secret.” He leans across the table. “I would have sworn that Cullen preferred women.”

They haven’t really talked about it yet. Felix set up the dinner and while they’ve nodded in passing, Krem hasn’t had a chance to speak with Cullen alone since they started dating. He’s due to play chess with him in a few days. “Maybe you’re not his type.”

“I’m everyone’s type. Thousands of years of breeding have seen to that.”

Krem means his personality, but he doesn’t want to start a fight and he doesn’t want to hurt Dorian’s feelings. Not really. Everybody Krem knows has a shitty story, Dorian isn’t special, but he’s never dealt with his shit and it makes him a little fragile around the edges. And the Chief is no fun when Dorian is in a funk. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You mean you won’t tell me.” He sits back in a huff. “Felix is the same. I’ve never met a more tight-lipped pair.”

He watches Dorian drink his ale, frowning at the taste. He doesn’t say anything more on the matter which is a surprise. “I’m surprised you’re not here to threaten me.” 

“Over this? Hardly. Felix is a big boy, he can handle himself. And it’s hardly the first time he’s been in a triad. Though the last time was with a pair of charming girls from Nevarra. He wasn’t as serious about them, though. I’m more concerned about the poor Commander. It can’t be good for his heart to exist in a permanent state of blushing. Have you seen him? Every time he catches sight of either one of you he turns the most charming shade of red.”

Krem has noticed Cullen’s reaction to their presence, but his mind is on other matters. Felix never mentioned another group. It shouldn’t have been surprising, he knew what to do, how to approach the situation. Krem should have clued in that this isn’t his first time organizing this type of relationship. But it is a surprise and it twists something in his gut to discover Felix hadn’t shared. He almost believes Dorian told him to cause drama, but while the two of them are on uneven terms, there’s no doubting his love for Felix.

He clears his throat, then downs the rest of his drink. “Speaking of, I’m due to meet Felix.” He stands, but something in his face must give him away.

“I’ve upset you. Did he not tell you about Maris and Briella?” Dorian rubs his hand over his chin. “Oh, Felix, you perfect ass.”

“No, it’s fine.” He doesn’t want to share this is Dorian. “I just have to go.” He doesn’t wait for an apology, though Dorian looks ready to give one, and instead heads out to Felix’s nook. 

And finds Cullen at the table, long legs stretched out so their ankles are touching. Felix is talking and Cullen is laughing and he looks relaxed and good. The knot in Krem’s stomach intensifies and he hangs back to watch them, how easy they are with each other. The tips of Cullen’s ears are pink, but he’s gesturing with his hands and Felix has his attentive face on, the one that is usually directed at Krem.

He finds he can’t cross the threshold into the room and leaves before either notices his arrival.

*

Krem makes himself scarce the rest of the day and all through the morning. He has a standing appointment in the afternoons with the Chargers, though, so it’s easy enough for Felix to track him down. 

He comes off the practice field sweaty and sore. He pushed himself this afternoon, focusing all his attention of the pull of his muscles and the heft of his maul rather than the thoughts swirling in his mind. All he wants is a bath and a nap, but Felix is standing at the edge of the field, arms crossed over his chest, a hint of a smile on his face.

“Very impressive. I do love a man who knows how to use his equipment.”

Normally, Krem would laugh and wrap his arms around Felix, but he’s not feeling it. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling. “I’ve been slacking off the past couple days. Needed to get back in the game.”

Felix takes in his tone, his slightly distant body language and holds out a hand. “Walk with me?”

“I really need to hit the baths, so—“

“Walk with me.”

Avoidance is never really the best option. Living in close quarters with the Chargers taught him that. Best own up instead of letting things fester. “Right.”

They head up the stairs into the hall and through to Felix’s study room. His things are packed away, neat as always, though there’s a lingering sense of him. It’s overlaid, now though in Krem’s mind, with Cullen as well. Krem opts to stand near the window rather than take the seat that Cullen had the day before.

“You’re upset.”

Krem draws a breath and lets it out nice and slow. “Not exactly.” He’s not sure what he feels other than jealousy which is just ridiculous. This is what he asked for and wanted. “Things feel a little out of control.”

“All right. Tell me what you need.”

“Who are Maris and Briella?”

Felix’s brow creases in confusion before it clears at his gasp of surprise. “I haven’t thought about them in years. Dorian told you?”

He nods, the tight feeling in his stomach back.

“We were young, Maker, barely out of our teens. I’d been seeing Maris for about a year and she brought up the idea of bringing Briella into the mix. They were already good friends and it seemed natural. We dated for about six months and then I got an opportunity to study in Minrathous. We parted on good terms rather than try to continue long distance. I still get letters from them sometimes.” He reaches out, but lets his hand drop before making contact. “Are you upset I didn’t tell you? I honestly wasn’t keeping it from you.”

Felix is being careful with him and he doesn’t want to be treated like he’s delicate. “It’s fine.”

“But you’re still upset.”

“It feels like you wanted this all along and were just waiting for me to get on board.” Like he was never enough.

“Krem. I have been completely honest about how I feel about you and what we have. I’d like to explore this with Cullen, but only if that works for both of us. I haven’t been secretly plotting to get all of us together in a room. An opportunity pretended itself. That’s all.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to Felix’s earnest expression. “Okay.” Except it doesn’t feel okay and can’t describe why.

“But you’re still upset.”

He shrugs. “You say it’s not a thing, it’s not a thing.”

“You don’t sound like you believe me.”

He looks away. It’s his problem, not Felix’s. “I’m just being sensitive.” He drew a breath. “And I smell. I need to go bathe. See you tonight?”

Usually a bath helps him think. Soaking in hot water with nothing else to do but get clean helps clear out the noise and focus on the things that matter. He does some of his best thinking in the bath, when he can squeeze in the time and privacy.

Today, though, his thoughts are not clear and soaking only eases the ache in his muscles. The more he thinks, the more twisted his thoughts become. He’s been with multiple people at the same time, the mechanics aren’t the issue. He’s just never been in love with them. 

He drags himself out of the bath a good half hour earlier than usual, puts on clean clothes and heads off to find Cullen. It seems the best thing to do is air out his worries with Cullen. If Felix and Cullen want to make a go of it, it twists his heart and his stomach, but he can let them. He just can’t watch it happen.

The late hour finds Cullen in his office. He looks up from his desk when Krem enters with a wan smile. “My apologies, I’m afraid I’m not up for visitors this evening.” His face flushed with something other than embarrassment and a thin sheen of sweat marks his skin.

“Are you ill?”

“It will pass.” He waves a hand, but it’s lifeless.

Krem crosses the room to his side and places a hand against his forehead. He’s clammy and warm. Up close his eyes are glazed and there are fine tremors running through him. He takes the quill from Cullen’s unresisting fingers, sets it aside and tidies up his papers. “Come on. Up you go.” He helps Cullen stand, surprised that Cullen doesn’t resist him. “Don’t start up the ladder without me.” He makes a quick detour to the door and tells the solider on rounds to keep everyone but the Inquisitor away from the office. Cullen’s soldiers are good, because she doesn’t bat an eye, just moves off to spread the word.

It’s a bit of a production to get him up the ladder. Krem is almost too preoccupied with Cullen’s state to appreciate the view he has of his ass. Instead he stays close, ready to catch him should Cullen slip.

Cullen’s loft is sparse. The hole in the ceiling, the broken crates as tables, the bed that had probably been part of the fortress’ original furnishings. Cullen hunches in on himself, as if waiting for Krem to berate him for the space. But Krem’s lived in worse, he’s been out of luck enough that there were times when Cullen’s loft would have seemed like a palace. Bit of an odd choice for the Commander of the Inquisition’s army, but everyone’s got their own shit. 

He pulls back the blankets, then comes to help Cullen out of his armor. Cullen tries to do it himself, but his hands are shaking and he makes a mess of the buckles and harnesses. “I’ve got this,” Krem said, soft and sure. He’s good at armor. Maybe hasn’t been wearing it quite as long as Cullen, but close enough.

“You don’t have to.” But Cullen drops his hands and lets him and it feels like a gift.

Cullen has a stand in the corner of the room and after he gets Cullen sitting on the bed, Krem goes to deal with the armor. One night on the floor probably wouldn’t hurt anything, but Cullen’s the type of guy who seems to like his routines and Krem’s trying to help.

When he’s done, Cullen is still sitting on the edge of the bed, forearms resting on his thighs, his head hanging down as he hunches over himself. Across from the armor stand, there’s a little basin of water and a mirror that’s seen better days. He dips a cloth into the basin and returns to Cullen’s side. “Come on. Lie back.” He hold up the covers for Cullen and settles them around his waist when he’s finally reclined. Then, starting at his face and working his way down Cullen’s strong neck and arms, he wipes the sweat from his skin. 

“I’m not sick.”

“Yeah, you look real good.” He leans across Cullen’s body to reach his other arm. The resolve he had storming across Skyhold is gone now. Faced with Cullen, Cullen who he _likes_ , prone and in need of care, who, even sick, smells so good, Krem doesn’t want to walk away. Can’t.

“I’m not,” he huffs out a sigh, part annoyance and part exhaustion. “It’s not an illness.”

Krem leans back. “Okay.” It’s the best he can do without removing Cullen’s shirt and he doesn’t know how comfortable either of them would be with that.

Cullen shifts, raises his arm and settles his hand at Krem’s waist. The touch is light, hesitant. If he moves at all Krem is sure Cullen will jerk it away. “You should ask.”

He doesn’t move. “Do you want me to ask?”

“I should tell you. It affects you and Felix.” He turns his head and closes his eyes, but his hand stays. 

He wants to run his fingers through Cullen’s hair, so he does, smoothing the curls and massaging at the tight skin. “How about this, then? You tell us when you’re feeling better, if you want. Not now. Now, you need rest.”

Cullen’s hand tightens at Krem’s waist. “Stay? Just for a while.” He shudders and turns away. “That’s selfish of me, I’m sorry. I’m sure you have things to do.”

“Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?” He keeps his touch firm and consistent. “You want me to read to you?” There aren’t a lot of books in the room, but there is one on the bedside table. It looks well-worn and there are slips of paper marking various pages.

“You don’t have to.” 

Maker save him from men who can’t ask for what they want. “I know I don’t have to.” He stands and his heart twists at the sad little sound Cullen isn’t quite able to mask. “I’m not going anywhere. Just getting comfortable.” He pulls off his boots, grabs the book, and then resettles himself on the bed next to Cullen with his back against what passes for a headboard. He curls his arm around Cullen’s shoulder and pulls him close so he can keep one hand in his hair while the other is free to flip pages. 

The book turns out to be a collection of short stories, and Krem starts with the ones that Cullen has marked. They run on a central theme, a dashing hero righting wrongs, and before he’s able to finish the second one, Cullen is sleeping against his side, heavy and still. 

Krem sets the book aside, but keeps his other hand on Cullen. He likes the way Cullen feels in his arms, he likes that there’s something he can do for him. It’s not that he’s as much of a worrier as the Chief, no one can pick up more strays than The Iron Bull, but it takes a certain amount of caring to be in charge and he likes it.

He thinks back to when he found Cullen and Felix together, how it made him feel and examines those feeling again in his current context. Would Felix feel the same if he walked in? He thought not. And his feelings for Felix were no less even with Cullen in his arms.

He wishes Felix was with them. And that, there, maybe answers his questions for him.

*

He must have slept because the next thing he knows is there’s a creak of the ladder and Cullen goes from warm and pliant to scrambling out of the bed and crouched on the floor, his eyes sweeping the room for his sword. Felix pokes his head up and into the loft and grimaces. 

“It’s just me.”

Krem hasn’t moved, is keeping himself real still as Cullen calms down. “Felix?” He shakes his head and then pushes himself to stand. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see my favorite people. Though I’ll be honest I was hoping I was going to interrupt something far more salacious.”

Cullen’s hand goes to the back of his neck as his whole face burns red. Krem can feel a little of the heat in his own ears. “Cullen’s not feeling well.”

“Mmm, yes, you do look peaked. Let’s get you back to bed.” Felix climbs the rest of the way back into the room and guides Cullen to bed. He goes willingly enough and is soon back in place.

“Need anything?” Felix asks Krem as he pulls the blankets up to tuck them around Cullen’s shoulders. 

They need to talk, he and Felix and the three of them, but not while Cullen is ill and not while it’s all so close to the surface. “I wouldn’t say no to dinner, and company. You don’t mind if we eat up here, do you?” He directs the question to Cullen, who’s awake, but fading.

“You can do whatever you want,” Cullen mutters into his side as he turns and throws an arm over Krem’s waist. “Just don’t go.”


End file.
